The Lost Heritage
by herondaleheirlooms
Summary: After the war, Jace finds out the truth about what being touched by an angel really means. As he uncovers the secret that has been hunting the Herondale family for decades, he finds out people he'd never even got the chance to meet may actually be alive...even some who should be long gone. AU. Post COG and will eventually contain OCs.


**A/N****: Hello everyone! This idea has been stuck in my mind for a while now and I hope that other people will enjoy it too. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes that may appear. Also, if you want to know how I imagine the characters, check out my profile.**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or the Infernal Devices. The world and the characters belong to the amazing Cassandra Clare.**

**Summary****: After the war, Jace finds out the truth about what being touched by an angel really means. As he uncovers the secret that has been hunting the Herondale family for decades, he finds out people he'd though were long lost may actually be alive. AU. Post COG.**

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"_I never meant to get us in this deep/_ _Oh, I wish you were the one that got away"_

_The Civil Wars - The One That Got Away_

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**_The Lost Heritage_**

**_Prologue_**

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The raindrops were continuously falling, the sound they made as the cold, dark pavement destroyed them muffling any other sound source. As she made her way through the first rows of trees of Brocelind Forest, the girl couldn't help but wonder if she were indeed making a mistake.

A wolf howl filled the night, making the girl shiver. She wrapped her green coat tightly around herself and shook her head, trying to push the constant forest noises away. The rain seemed to only get heavier as the girl got deeper into the forest, the tall trees surrounding her getting closer and closer.

As she was about to enter the part of the forest that Shadowhunters would never venture into alone, the girl looked back, catching a glimpse at the fireworks shining brightly on Alicante's sky, and couldn't help but wonder how long would it take for the storm to stop the victory party.

It was just short moment in which she'd let her guard down. Focusing on the far night sky, she didn't see him coming. His claws cut through her flesh, a scream escaping her lips as she hit the muddy ground. She tried to get up, but her wounded ankles only made her fall hard on her back.

As she tried to get up for the second time, two hands grabbed her own and pinned her back to the ground. His face was suddenly covering her entire visual field, his dark eyes filled with anger. "I said before midnight." he barked, tightening his grip on her wrists.

"Get the hell off of me, before I punch you in the face, Owen." she managed to say as she finally caught her breath.

"I sincerely doubt that you can, auntie Lucie." he mocked her name, but still let go of her wrists.

Lucie managed to get herself in a sitting position and started to examine her ankles." If it were any of the other werewolves you'd probably be dead by now. It's their hunting time and trust me, they do not care if they stay immortal or not…Healing runes still work on you, don't they?" He asked after a few moments, his voice getting lower, the anger slowly dissolving.

"I could've handled them." she was trying to apply the runes, but her hands couldn't stop shaking as she held the old-fashioned stele in her hand.

"Sure you could've. " Owen spited out. "By the Angel, you sound just like dad."

Lucie couldn't help but notice that her nephew didn't give up on his Shadowhunter habits, even though he'd been a werewolf for many years now. She'd always considered werewolves the oddest Downworlders, mainly because of their strange rule of becoming immortal." Remind me" she said just as the runes started healing her. "How old were you when you were bitten?"

"Mom always used to say you have quite a short memory for someone who can memorize entire paragraphs from books." Owen rolled his eyes and helped her get back on her feet. Lucie shivered a little, not from the cold but from the mention of her parabatai. "I was 25."

"Was?" Lucie asked taking a few leaves out of her light brown hair.

"I mean I still am 25, since the last time I checked, I haven't killed anybody yet." Owen shook his head in exasperation. "Look…" he said after a while, his face suddenly bearing a serious expression. "Just because I'm also a werewolf doesn't mean the others won't think of attacking us, especially after the war. I wouldn't have asked you to come out here if it wasn't important, plus I know for a fact that there are people who are…or were loyal to Valentine still lurking in the shadows of Alicante." He suddenly seemed very interested by his shoes. "I…might've found someone." He said after a while, his voice almost a whisper.

Lucie hated herself for gasping, but that fact that Owen wouldn't look her in the eyes made the excitement quickly go away." Who?" She asked, her mind being filled with the images of two men. Both with the same jet-black hair, one with tormented golden eyes and one with dark blue ones just like her own.

"Someone whom neither of us specifically wanted to find. But…I think I might've found the place where Valentine had been keeping Stephen Herondale all those years. His second wife may be there too."

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**A/N: Thank you so much for reading. As you've probably noticed this is just a prologue, as I do not know if there is someone who may actually like it. So please let me know if you'd like me to continue by reviewing. **


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